


Signs Of Life 2

by loves_books



Series: Signs Of Life [2]
Category: The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heartbeats, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 19:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16501028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: “I’m sorry,” Hannibal whispered, his fingers never straying from their position on Face’s throat. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I just… I needed…”“You had a nightmare,” Face guessed, and he felt Hannibal nod against his chest. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay.”





	Signs Of Life 2

**Author's Note:**

> Not a sequel or continuation of part one in any way, but written at the same time and from the same idea, so it felt only right to link them together here.

Face drifted slowly out of a deep and restful sleep, his awareness of the bedroom solidifying gradually around him as consciousness returned and he blinked his eyes half-open to see nothing but darkness. He was lying on his back on a soft mattress, a cool pillow beneath his head, and for a moment he wasn’t at all sure what had pulled him from his rest, until he became aware of the trembling fingers pressed hard against the side of his neck.

Such a threatening gesture would usually see him startling awake in an instant, coming up with fists swinging as adrenaline flooded his system to make his heart race, but Face knew these particular long, calloused fingers, even in his sleep-heavy state.

“Hannibal?” he mumbled, swallowing with some difficulty as those searching fingers kept pressing against his skin, and a heavy yet familiar head came to rest on his chest. “You okay?”

When there was no immediate answer Face lifted one hand and carefully threaded his fingers into Hannibal’s short yet soft hair, cradling his lover close as Hannibal’s panted breaths stirred the hair on his own chest. As the minutes passed and the silence grew deeper still, he forced his eyes wider, though the darkness of their room was too complete to even see Hannibal’s silhouette. “John, baby?”

“I’m sorry, kid,” Hannibal whispered eventually, his fingers never straying from their position on Face’s throat. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I just… I needed…”

“You had a nightmare,” Face guessed, and he felt Hannibal nod against his chest. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay.”

“ _You’re_ okay,” Hannibal gasped, moving his head slightly until his ear was pressed directly over Face’s heart.

Face shivered slightly at the realisation. “I wasn’t okay, in your nightmare.” He didn’t mean it as a question, but Hannibal chose to answer anyway, his voice husky and deep.

“I woke up and you were in my arms, in this very bed, but you weren’t breathing. You were so cold, and so still, and your heart wasn’t…”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Face wrapped his free arm around Hannibal’s back, tugging gently until his lover shifted to lie fully on top of him, a solid and grounding weight. Hannibal’s fingers didn’t move the entire time; measuring his pulse, Face finally realised with a pang.

Nightmares were the very worst.

“I’m so sorry,” Hannibal whispered again, pushing his nose slightly into Face’s left pectoral, before raising his head and resting his chin on Face’s collarbone. It was pitch black in their bedroom, thanks to the heavy blackout curtains, but Face still thought he could make out the faint gleam of his lover’s eyes as Hannibal stared up at him. “I just need to feel you for a while. Is that okay?”

Face smiled softly, even though he felt tears prickling at the back of his own eyes at the same time. Hannibal was such a strong and dependable man, steady and unshakeable and utterly reliable, and it always felt so wrong to Face when his lover was reduced to such raw emotions. It was a rare reminder that Hannibal was all too human.

And also a precious reminder of how much Hannibal loved him. Face would never, ever take that love for granted.

“Whatever you need, John.” Face relaxed back into the pillows a fraction, swallowing against his lover’s rough fingertips and letting his eyes slip closed again. “I’m all yours.”

Long moments passed in near silence, as Hannibal’s breathing slowly started to settle, and Face began to drift back to sleep beneath the warm weight of his lover’s heavy body. Hannibal’s own heartbeat, felt against Face’s chest where they were pressed so closely together, was racing as if he’d run a marathon, or had a terrible scare, but it was starting to slow now much to Face’s relief. 

The rapid yet rhythmic thumping lulled Face into a contented doze before sudden movement pulled him back to full awareness of the room, as Hannibal shifted slightly to raise himself up on his elbows, bracketing Face’s body with his own.

Warm lips pressed firmly to Face’s right temple, close to his sleepy, tired eyes. Then, with another shift, Hannibal’s nose nuzzled briefly into Face’s left armpit before another lingering kiss was pressed to the inside of his left arm.

Pulse points, Face’s fuzzy brain told him, his special forces training automatically identifying the vulnerable places of his body where the blood flowed closest to the skin. _Carotid, temporal, brachial…_

He tried to shut his brain down and focussed instead on letting his body fall completely limp, more than content to let Hannibal take whatever he needed rather than focus on the details. Hannibal peppered a series of feather-light kisses down Face’s arm to reach his inner wrist, sucking hard over the pulse there, which was starting to beat just a little faster as Face’s awareness of his lover’s tenderness made his heartrate kick up.

_Radial…_

Face had never been more aware of the rhythm of his own heart or the system of veins and arteries that lay just beneath his skin, providing life-giving blood to the muscles he had always worked so hard to build. Miles and miles and miles of veins, dangerously close to the surface at times. The human body was so fragile.

“I love you so very much,” Hannibal whispered with another tiny shift which allowed him to press his palm flat against Face’s upper belly, pushing gently until Face could feel his own heartbeat thudding through his abdominal aorta, echoing the steady thumping he could feel beneath his breastbone. “I love your courage, I love your mind, I love your honesty. I love everything about you, and I don’t tell you that often enough.”

“John, I – ”

“And I love your heart.” That hot, damp palm slid lower down Face’s stomach, skimming over his navel and detouring over his hip to press into his inner thigh, just below the seam of the soft boxer-briefs he’d fallen asleep in. Another press, harder, searching and finding. _Femoral pulse,_ Face’s mind told him insistently, and he wished again that he could shut it down. “Beating so steadily, keeping your beautiful blood flowing. Making sure your body and brain are in top condition. This incredible, powerful, strong, loving heart.”

“It only beats for you,” Face told the darkness as, with a full-body shift, Hannibal slid down the bed between Face’s parted thighs. Face felt his breathing hitch, fully expecting to feel his lover’s hot mouth on his most intimate parts next, and adrenaline started to flood his system after all. 

Everything felt hyper-real, his skin too sensitive and every nerve ending alive, but before his heart could divert any extra blood towards his groin, to his surprise he suddenly felt his left leg lifted slightly until Hannibal could mouth gently at the back of his knee. _Popliteal_ …

“Fuck,” Face whispered, twitching slightly as his leg tensed up. He was ticklish there, as Hannibal damn well knew, and he tried his hardest not to kick out.

Hannibal did indeed know, as was evidenced by the muffled chuckle that just barely reached Face’s ear, but instead of pulling off he slid his mouth lower, wet tongue slipping out to leave a cool trail down Face’s taut calf muscle. Face felt Hannibal’s sharp teeth nipping carefully at the thin skin at his ankle – _pedal pulse_ – and his toes curled in a split-second of exquisite agony.

“Perfect,” Hannibal said softly, sounding far more in control of himself and his emotions now as he lowered Face’s leg back down and crawled back up the bed until his head came to rest once more over Face’s heart, fingers unerringly stretching up to find his carotid artery once again. “You are so incredibly perfect, my love.”

Face threw his arms back around Hannibal, squeezing tight before giving in to his own need to slide his fingers onto Hannibal’s neck in return, feeling his lover’s racing heartbeat still taking its time settling slowly, steadily.

They lay there together in the darkness, pressed together down the full length of their bodies, just breathing together and feeling their heartbeats gradually fall into perfect sync. Face could hear his own pulse beating in his ears, a steady metronome filling the silence of the night.

Of course, there was usually one more place where Face loved feeling Hannibal’s heart beating: deep inside his own body when they made love long and hard and oh-so-deep, but for now they were both limp and relaxed, even pressed together as intimately as they were. There would be time later for more, when they were both properly awake and the shadows of the night and it’s dark dreams were far behind them both.

Hannibal was the one to fall back to sleep first, his head becoming impossibly heavier on Face’s chest, and his hand sliding limply away from Face’s throat to rest on the pillows instead as he started to snore very softly.

Face smiled to himself as he teetered on the edge of sleep. Hannibal was warm and safe and alive in his arms, and for now everything was right with their world. Only then did he let himself drift away again into the night, warm and safe and alive himself, knowing that everything would still be right when the sun rose.


End file.
